


does it almost feel like

by snsk



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Christmas, Fix-it fic, Happy Ending, M/M, Reindeer, happy birthday louis, merry christmas guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 07:07:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snsk/pseuds/snsk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>louis wakes up and finds a reindeer tethered to his mailbox</p>
            </blockquote>





	does it almost feel like

"I wonder how big a reindeer's shit is," Niall said.

The reindeer looked up at him, like, wouldn't you like to know.

"The real question is," said Louis, hating to be the voice of reason, "is it my birthday present? Or my Christmas one?"

"That's the real question?" asked Liam, tilting his head, as if looking from another angle at the reindeer tethered to Louis' mailbox would allow some insight to its being there.

"None of us know, Lou," Zayn said. "Card just says, To Lou, Have a great one." He waved a hand at the card dangling from the ribbon around one of the reindeer's antlers.

"I'm sure it's one of you, so you should know," Louis said. "That's why I called you here. Birthday, or Christmas?"

"Why would it be one of us?" Harry asked. He reached forward to tentatively touch at the reindeer's head, ignoring Liam's little worried "Harry, careful." Louis narrowed his eyes when the animal bent its head easily for Harry to pet. If reindeers could purr, this one would have.

"You seem mighty familiar with it," he said suspiciously.

"I like animals, Lou," Harry replied guilelessly. The reindeer nuzzled into his palm. Even Louis' birthday slash Christmas reindeer liked Harry better than him.

"So which one is it?" asked Zayn.

"Exactly," said Louis, "my birthday, or--"

"No, I mean, which reindeer? There's Dancer, and Prancer, and like, Flier and Higher and Rudolph... which one's this?"

Louis considered. "Why is it one of those magical deers, anyway?" he asked. "If it was magical, it'd be, like, preparing for Christmas. It wouldn't be in my front yard."

"It's performing a Christmas miracle," Niall told them seriously. "Aren't you, bud? You'll see. Something heartwarmingly magical is gonna happen this Yuletide, lads. Thanks to little Philip here."

"Not Philip," said Harry. "His name's George."

"Says who?" Louis said. "It's my reindeer, I get to name him."

"It's George, he told me," Harry insisted.

"You're the deer whisperer now?"

Harry shrugged. His eyes were bright against the white December morning. 

"Whatever," Louis said. Harry always got his way anyway. He stomped his feet against the snow blanketing his driveway a few times, then turned back towards the house.

"I know it's one of you," he called out. "I'm going to find out who it is."

Inside, Louis exhausted his voice and his monthly plan by calling every single person on his contact list. Half of them didn't believe him. A quarter put the phone down, moaning something about too early and go away. His mum listened patiently and asked Louis when she would have found the time to send him a dirty great animal for his birthday, slash Christmas. Stan ordered him to try and ride it. Lottie went off tangent and told him a story she'd read on the Internet about him and a giant worm. 

Traumatized, Louis gave it up. He was still sure it was one of the boys, though. He was sure, those many weeks and months and hours, there was one night he'd gotten drunk and told the tale of tiny Louis and his fascination with Santa's reindeers.

Louis' bet was on Harry, but he couldn't be sure anymore, not like two years ago, less than a year, even. He stomped back out. Harry was still there. 

"The fuck, it's freezing," Louis said.

Harry was sitting in the driveway, offering George a carrot. He'd progressed to the arm-around-deer's-neck level. His legs were stretched out on the snow.

"Where'd you get that?" Louis asked. "I won't have my reindeer eating rubbish like that."

Harry smiled. "I thought he'd be lonely," he said, in response to Louis' earlier enquiry. "You seemed busy."

Louis came to sit by him. He didn't touch, like he would have, less than a year ago. He could still feel the heat seeping through from Harry's skin. It was amazing how some things didn't change.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Louis asked. He didn't tack on anybody's names.

"No," Harry said. "I like it here." 

"With George," Louis affirmed.

Harry looked at George's hoof, and nodded. 

"I'm going in," Louis said, "because it's fuckin' freezing. Weirdo." It wasn't, not with Harry's body heat, somehow always managing to warm Louis up by the sheer magic of proximity, but Harry didn't need to know that. "If I look out of the window and see you here in half an hour, I'm going to call the police."

"Duly noted," Harry said.

"Can't have youths on my lawn," Louis told him.

Harry said, "You're not getting old, Lou," which was totally beside the point. Louis sort of appreciated it anyway.

 

In thirty minutes, he looked out the window. Harry was leaning against George, absorbed in some story he was telling him. 

 

"Nah," Louis said, thinking better about thrusting the hot chocolate into Harry's hands. It would spill over and scald Louis' skin, he wasn't stupid.

"Where are the police?" Harry asked, accepting it, with the smile that still made Louis' knees weak.

Louis shrugged. "It's Christmas."

"Not really, though," Harry said, smiling into his mug, now. Still his mug.

"December is Christmas, it's like I've taught you nothing," Louis said, shaking his head.

"December is your birthday," Harry said.

Louis was warm, even with the snow drifting all around. "So you think George is a glad-you-made-22 thing, rather than a glad-Jesus-saved-us-all thing."

"If it was up to me," Harry said, slow and rough like the year they'd had, "yeah, it would definitely be a glad-you-exist, you're-fucking-amazing kind of thing."

"--Oh," Louis said. He didn't look at him. He looked resolutely at George's leg, cleared his throat. A full minute passed. "It's almost lunchtime."

"Mm," Harry said peaceably.

"I was thinking of going down to Toro's," Louis said. "D'you wanna. Yeah. Come with?"

"Okay," Harry said. "But George--"

"We'll bring something back for George," Louis said, rolling his eyes. "What kind of deer owner do you think I am?"

Harry got to his feet, dusting snow off his coat. "You haven't touched George once."

"Give it time," Louis said. 

 

They went to Toro's, and had lunch. It was really, stupidly nice. They hadn't done it in ages, Louis realized, just them, no cloud-hanging arguments, no cameras. They used to do it all the time, on the X Factor, before they got properly famous. Just walk across the street and get a bite. 

They talked about George, and Beyoncé's new album, and whether City had a fighting chance. Harry got a spot of alfredo on his cheek. Louis reached over to wipe it off. 

They had ice cream after, cold against cold, and it didn't melt in the cup and that was why Louis loved it.

Back at Louis' place, he was half-expecting Harry to head straight back, but Harry only settled down beside George and gave him the lettuce he'd procured for him from Toro's kitchen. Louis went inside the house to throw down his keys and change into a warmer jumper. He deliberated a few minutes, glaring at his blank-screened tv, then went outside.

It started getting dark soon after that, and Harry was showing no signs of leaving.

"Really, don't you have someplace to be?" Louis said, honestly curious.

"Not now," Harry said. He reached out, cautious, and wrapped a careful hand around Louis' ankle. Louis let him. 

"Not wearing socks," Harry said. "It's winter." He kept his hand on Louis' skin as the darkness fell around them.

"Come inside," Louis said, and Harry did.

He moved inside the house like he'd never left. They had dinner in front of the tv, and Louis fell asleep on the sofa, and Harry didn't, but he didn't leave all night, either. Louis knew, because he woke up once, disoriented and with the bluish light from the tv glowing straight in his eyes, and Harry had his arms around his waist, curls tickling Louis' chin. 

He'd fallen asleep with his head on Louis' chest, like he was sixteen again and all he wanted to do was cuddle up to Louis, all the time.

Louis fell back asleep. He dreamt in warmer shades, sepia, sun, perhaps.

 

It was the 23rd of December, and Niall was in his kitchen, and Louis was perched on a stool, looking at him consideringly.

"Did you do it, Niall?"

"Do what?" Niall asked, mouth still full with toast. Louis was sure he had toast in his own house.

Louis inclined his head towards the window. Niall watched Harry feed George toast and butter.

"Mate, I wish I could take the credit, but no," Niall said. "I told you boys, it's a Christmas miracle."

"Nothing miraculous has happened," Louis said, lying a bit, perhaps.

 

"I want to go to the shops," Louis said, kicking at Harry's boot.

"So do I," Harry agreed instantly. He brightened even more. "D'you think they sell reindeer-sized Christmas lights?"

"To put on the reindeer?" Louis said. 

"So he can shine bright, so they'll come back for him," Harry explained.

Louis looked at George. "Did he get lost, then?"

"No, but the lights are so they'll know when to come," Harry said.

"Ah," Louis said. "Okay, then. We can stop by that light store after lunch."

Sometimes, when Harry looked at him like that, with that expression in his eyes, Louis had to catch a breath.

 

They had lunch at the McDonald's drive thru this time. It wasn't any less nice as the previous day. They talked about the Downton Abbey Christmas special, and the song Louis'd been working on, and Liam's new functioning robot he'd imported specially. Harry's foot tangled with Louis' under the table.

They walked around the shops for a bit, and Louis watched Harry's face as he passed a baby store.

A girl recognized them, but she didn't take any pictures. Louis thanked her, and promised to follow her on Twitter. He went back to Harry, who was looking for milk, and slipped a hand under his jacket. When he looked back at the girl she was staring, wide-eyed, at the places they were touching, but Louis found that he-- he cared less, somehow. She met his eyes and smiled.

Louis smiled back.

 

The evening of the 23rd drew slowly upon them, and Harry said quietly, both of them lying in the snow, in their snow angel outlines, "Happy early birthday, Louis."

Louis looked down at their intertwined hands. "Harry," he said, and paused.

And then, because he had to, "Don't you have somewhere to be, Harry? Home, maybe? Or. Or Nick's?"

Harry got up suddenly, but didn't let go of Louis' hand. He was hovering over Louis, real and covering the setting sun, when he lifted Louis' knuckles to his lips.

"I don't want to be anywhere but where you are," he said. "I never, ever do. Don't you get that? I never have, not for three years. I never will, I'm pretty sure."

It was Christmas, after all, slash Louis' birthday. 

So he let himself believe in it. It was easy. He already did. If he made a wish tonight, maybe it'd last though the year, just maybe. He didn't have any choice in the matter, anyway. Louis never had, when it came to Harry.

When Harry kissed him, it tasted like hot chocolate and Niall's ridiculous Christmas miracle talk and hope, again, like the strange bittersweet tendril of being older, being wiser, being stronger, this time around. 

 

That night all five of them gathered around George, who was lit up as bright as a star, magnificently red and green against Louis' lawn. 

"If this doesn't work out, we'll have to bring him to the RSPCA in the morning," Liam said. "Or carried away, electrocuted, in an ambulance."

"It'll work out," Harry said, sure.

Zayn said nothing, but he looked at Harry's arm, around Louis' waist, and the way Louis leaned into him. He looked up at Louis.

Louis nodded, just slightly. Zayn nodded back, and sort of half-smiled, slinging his arm around Liam's shoulders.

"Have some faith, Payne," he said, fondly. 

The sound of sleigh bells drew ever closer, and George looked towards the night sky. Louis stepped forward, just for a bit. He put his hand on the reindeer's neck. 

"Thanks," he said.

"He's definitely Prancer," Zayn mused from behind him. 

George nuzzled his head in Louis' stomach. His antlers nearly took Louis' eye out. Louis was surprisingly not the slightest bit grumpy about that. 

A few majestic beings appeared into view, in the sky.

He stepped back into Harry's arms, his own Yuletide miracle. 

**Author's Note:**

> oooh this got a bit angsty some places. you can blame harry's lack of bday tweet to louis. 


End file.
